


and dream of sheep

by kermitfotia



Series: hearth and home [4]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: (it is lio's mom time again), Backstory, Gen, im sure you all know whats up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29370441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kermitfotia/pseuds/kermitfotia
Summary: There was a long-running rumour in Mad Burnish that the Big Boss never slept. Or that they hadn’t so much as taken off their uniform in the last three years, or something ridiculous like that.(It didn't matter much now whether that was true or not; the Big Boss was dead. And now it was up to the rest of them to take care of little Lio Fotia.)
Series: hearth and home [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748110
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	and dream of sheep

**Author's Note:**

> first off, big disclaimer this is yet ANOTHER lio fotia backstory. its a new one. me and fern's metaphorical latest patch. he's like 6 here idk. this isn't a reboot just think about it like the promare cinematic universe
> 
> secondly, yes the title is from kate bush's and dream of sheep, like that's the mood here. the ninth wave is one of myf avourite albums ever :/
> 
> thirdly, did you guys know that there is an unused failed fallout bunker project in cincinnati's abandoned abandoned subway system? i found this out by accident and i think its really weird and funny and also cool and you can find some cool pictures of it now if you look it up
> 
> fourthly, if you enjoy lio fotia's backstory edition 2 Please apply to the very cool zine i am helping out with (@promare80szine on twitter, tumblr, insta, etc!)

There was a long-running rumour in Mad Burnish that the Big Boss never slept. Or that they hadn’t so much as taken off their uniform in the last three years, or something ridiculous like that.

While Winnie Fotia could probably guarantee that that wasn’t the truth about their late Big Boss, there was a dark humour in kicking back in a shitty bunker cot with her jumpsuit and sneakers still on. (Admittedly, it wasn’t the work jumpsuit she wore every day, it was what would be considered the standard Mad Burnish mechanic’s jumpsuit. It made for a comfy set of pajamas.)

She stared at the concrete ceiling, ears straining for the sound of every other Burnish settling down, the regular thump of feet as their night guards took up their patrols along echoey halls, and—the inaudible sound of little Lio Fotia tucked into his own cot, just across the hall. He really was quiet as a mouse, just like his moms had always said.

It was hard to settle down when they weren’t even half a dozen hour’s drive from the freezing wreck of the Motor City. Not even a fortnight out from the whole thing going to shit.

And no one knew who would be next.

That was why Winnie had decided to get the fuck out of dodge so to speak, doubly so after finding little Lio Fotia in the wreck. And then, that was why they were holed up in this godforsaken old bunker under the still-smouldering ruins of Cincinnati, and not back in some cushy Mad Burnish safe-house in Columbus, or Cleveland, or up on the lake. The feds, and their ice machines, didn’t come out this way often. Cincinnati had been levelled thoroughly some time ago; nearly nowhere left for even crafty Burnish to hide.

“And who’s fault would that be,” Winnie muttered to herself, balancing one heel along the wall. Luckily for her, Winnifred Fotia was not a crafty Burnish, she was an extremely crafty motherfucker who had paid for her Mad Burnish to set up a little site out here. Just in case. It wasn’t like anyone used it anymore, or ever had.

(She wished it could’ve paid off more than this. More than one sole survivor, one child to protect as they waited to see who would fall next, who would scatter first. The strongest of them dead and the second best all holed up like rats—for the time being.)

They weren’t staying here forever. Hell, Winnie would’ve had them back on the road yesterday if she could’ve, would’ve zipped right past the little left of Cincinnati, but right now they weren’t taking any chances.

The weight of it all was really starting to hit her, like taking a block of lead to the chest. The Big Boss was dead. Motor City was really gone, wiped straight off the map. She was first in line to take care of Lio, and first in line to pick up the mantle. Somehow, it was more real now in this dim cold room than it was standing in the wreck of the city, numb with shock at the devastation. It weighed her down into the cot, made it feel like the concrete walls were closing in.

That was how she dozed off, lock-jawed and arms crossed, sneakered feet half kicked up against the wall. She didn’t bother with the pretence of getting under blankets. Winnie was a horribly light sleeper anyways; a habit borne out of all the late nights she’d had to jump up and be on her feet before she had the chance to open her eyes.

This was also why she nearly jumped out of her own skin when she stirred and saw a pair of catlike eyes peeking at her from around the corner of a door that was already ajar.

Little Lio Fotia was, after all, quiet as a mouse.

Winnie sat up with a few more degrees of panic than she would’ve liked, and paused before she brought a gentle flame to the palm of her hand. It cast dancing purple-pink shadows echoing onto the walls, and she could see Lio jump when she said, softly, “You can come in,”

He tiptoed in, nudging the door closed just as silently as he must’ve opened it. He was quite the sight; hair askew, wearing rolled up overalls and an old shirt for pajamas, holding onto a teddy bear for dear life. It was only a cheap thing, one Winnie had felt compelled to grab when they’d had to stop at a gas station on the way down, but he’d already latched onto it like a moth to a flame.

Lio hesitated a few steps away until she patted the cot next to her, motioning with her chin. “C’mere and sit down,” and he nodded, hopping up a cordial distance away before scooching closer. “So, what’s up cub?”

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered, half hidden behind the teddy bear. “By—by myself.” It was a question without asking.

“Ahhh,” Winnie said, nodding wisely as if this was a revelation. She looked down and he was still behind the stuffie, obviously thinking he was very sneaky every time he peeked around it at her. She pretended very hard not to notice. She  _ did _ notice that his poor little bear already beared (haha) a few little fingerprint scorch marks. No wonder with how hard he was hanging onto it.

“Well,” she said, and she gently pat his shoulder and rubbed his back the way you would with a smaller child, “you can stay in here with me if you’d like. But I’ll warn you, I might snore.”

Lio didn’t quite smile but he looked out from behind his teddy. “That’s alright, my mama used to snore,” he said, all matter of fact, like a real little miniature adult.

“Y’know, I forgot about that,” Winnie hummed, as if this was really new information. “Your mama used to snore somethin’ fierce. She sounded like a box of firecrackers. I used to tell her that sparks would come out and everythin’.”

That got a giggle out of him.

“You don’t snore like that, do you?” and she gave him a light poke to the side that only made him laugh a little more. “I bet you’re even louder,”

“Nuh-uh,”

“You sure?”

He nodded, trying in the way only little kids did to pretend that it wasn’t funny.

Winnie shrugged and stood up, stretching her arms up and out. “Alright then, I suppose we’ll have to find out. C’mon lightning bug, under the blankets.”

She busied herself with unlacing her sneakers and kicking them off for what felt like the first time in a week. It’d been a long damn week.

Unsurprisingly, Lio was already like a furnace in the cot when she turned to tuck him in. Winnie wasn’t dumb; she’d babysat kids before, she knew a lot of them got all overheated in their sleep, but Lio was more like a hot water bottle than a warm kiddo. His moms had always said he was a regular little spitfire, and that was no surprise considering his parents were two of the biggest blazes you could ever meet.

“Comfy?”

“Mmhm,” he nodded and it was an almost comical sight, the way he was bundled up in blankets all the way up to his nose. Winnie had half a mind to just get back on top of the blankets, but she didn’t want to trap the poor kid in like that either, or accidentally squish him in his sleep.

“Alrighty tighty,” and she climbed in, socked toes comically sticking out the other end. She decidedly did not pull the blankets up to her nose.

“You’re too tall,” Lio said, quiet, like it was a secret.

“I know,” she responded, just as furtive. “Your mom was tall too.”

“Yeah,” Lio yawned. “She’s big. You’re big too.”

_ Was  _ big, Winnie didn’t say. Larger than life, even more now that she was out of it. “That’s right.” she said instead.

She let Lio drift off, let him monopolize the sole sad bunk pillow and kick his feet against her in his sleep and roll close enough to bump his head onto her shoulder. He really was near silent in his sleep, maybe not as well mannered but just as quiet. Hypothetically it should be easier to sleep with Lio literally within her grasp, within reach, easy to protect.

Instead, Winnifred watched the flame-cast shadows dance on the cold concrete, the weight of it all pinning her in place, frozen with eyes open wide.

Lio shifted in his sleep again, and she absently squeezed his shoulder, pulled him just a millimeter closer. The atomic space-heater warmth of him occasionally stirring at her side only sent a rigid chill down her spine, not out of fear of him but of fear  _ for  _ him.

She watched the heavy closed door, ears pricked for the sound of the night guards, the rustle of other Burnish in their beds, the oh-so-quiet breathing of the little prince next to her.

Those cold walls closed in with every ebb and flicker of the flame. Every measured breath in and out. She couldn’t bear to let it go out. In these dark old tunnels, even the thought of extinguishing felt like another loss.

Winnifred wasn’t going to sleep any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> oh yeah before anyone asks, YES lio has two biological moms, YES my friend fern is a genius for this, YES lio's mom collection continues to grow exponentially,


End file.
